Woke Up In My Clothes Again This Morning
by anyother
Summary: A few sketches on a couple of days in the life of Frank. Believe me, things will get better - but not just yet.
1. Day One

_I know you used to be into me_

_Now you've got it in for me  
><em>_  
>(Babyshambles – In The Morning)<em>

"Thank you." The man said, decisive and somewhat impatient. Frank buttoned up his coat and left. His performance had been bad, all ninety seconds of it. He should have taken off his coat, should have memorized the script, and shouldn't have sworn when he stubbed his toe. It was an audition for a children's programme after all. He had screwed up and it was all his own fault.

It was cold outside, with gusts of rain soaking his hair, coat and trousers. London looked drab and uninviting. He wanted a drink badly, but settled for a cup of tea in a nearby chip shop. The air was thick with grease, but he wasn't hungry. He lit up a cigarette instead.

He stayed at the chip shop for a long time. He spent his last change on two more milky teas and flipped through the pages of The Sun and yesterday's copy of The Standard. He scanned the pages for job vacancies for a while, to no avail. He quite fancied becoming a bus driver, but he didn't have a driver's licence. He'd been living in London for most of his life, didn't own a car and couldn't afford driving lessons. He doubted that he'd be eligible for the job of debt collector, since his own finances were a shambles. He even considered applying for the job of demolition labourer. Not because the job appealed to him, but because with his destructive personality he'd probably be perfect for it.

When "My Heart Will Go On" started playing on the radio, he left. He didn't feel any better, but at least his clothes and hair had dried and outside the rain had stopped. There was no sun, though. He didn't head for the nearest tube station, but decided to walk home instead.


	2. Day Two

"So, did you get it?" Daniel asked. He had invited Frank to a party that was held in honour of a new record deal by the company Daniel worked for. "Three half naked teenagers squealing and squirming? Yeah, I get it." Frank said. He suddenly felt tired. "Not the band. Your audition. For a J.O.B." Daniel frowned. "No, don't tell me. You didn't get it. Again. Did you even bother to go?" "I did, actually. Bloody pointless." Frank replied, and headed for the bar. Daniel followed him. "You mean useless. You are, you know." "If you say so." Frank said and ordered two pints.

They found a couple of seats in a corner. "Tell me all about it." Daniel ordered. "You don't want to know." Frank searched for his cigarettes. "I'll be the judge of that, thank you. In your right hand pocket." Daniel shook his head and drank his beer.

Frank had just stuck a cigarette between his lips when a warm body slid next to him and a girl swung a lighter before his eyes. He grabbed the lighter, but she didn't let him take it. He recognised her from the performance earlier on. She couldn't be more than seventeen. There were smudges of mascara beneath her eyes. She lit his cigarette and took one for herself from his packet. They smoked in silence for a while. "We were having a private conversation, if you must know." Daniel said, displeased. Frank sniggered. The girl swore, dropped her cigarette butt in Frank's glass, blew smoke in Daniel's face and left.


	3. Day Three

_I was out in the city_

_I was out in the rain_

_I was feeling down hearted_

_I was drinking again_

_I was standing by the bridges_

_Where the dark water flows_

_I was talking to a stranger_

_About times long ago_

_I was young_

_I was foolish_

_I was angry_

_I was vain_

_I was charming_

_I was lucky_

_Tell me how have I changed_

_Now I'm out_

_Oh out of control_

_Oh help me now_

_(Out Of Control – The Rolling Stones)_

Frank didn't think things could get worse. He'd reached the bottom of the dark pit that represented his life, with not a single soul to pull him out. He didn't have a job. Well, he'd had plenty of time to get used to that. No family, no friends and definitely no girlfriend.

Today was his mother's birthday. Yesterday his brother had called. "I don't think she wants to see you." The tone of his voice made it clear that in fact none of his family wanted to see Frank.

He'd messed up so bad that even his friend Laurence had finally lost his patience and walked out on him the other day. His friend Daniel was too busy to answer his phone calls or hang out with him, and had sent him money instead. He didn't want money – at least not Daniel's money and what it stood for. He'd spent some of it on vodka.

By the time the vodka had warmed him, it had seemed a good idea to go and look for a woman, and he had somehow ended up in the grubby room of a prostitute. She wasn't his type, and to be honest, she'd scared him. Eleanor, she said her name was. When she undid the buttons of his coat, he'd suggested they talk first. Her only respond was to go for the buttons of his jeans. He felt nothing, except embarrassment. "I don't think this is a good idea." His head buzzed so loud he could hardly hear his own voice. He'd paid her and fled from the brothel. Outside it was raining.

He was back in the messy bedsit he called his home. Alone. With only three cigarettes left to keep him company. His lighter was empty and he didn't have any matches. The faded flowers of the wallpaper hurt his eyes. His downstairs neighbour turned up the volume of his stereo. Frank accidentally knocked over the half empty vodka bottle. The drink gushed over the worn carpet and the sudden stench of dust mingled with alcohol made him gag. He pressed his nose into his damp pillow. Tried to stop the tangle of thoughts in his head. God, he needed a smoke.


	4. Day Four

_In the morning where does all the pain go_

_The same place the fame goes straight to your head_

_Ah, it's not easy getting it out my head_

_It wasn't easy gettin' outta bed_

_(Babyshambles – In The Morning)_

He must have slept, cause the ringing of his phone woke him up, and it was no longer dark. He grabbed the phone. "Yeah?" "Good morning!" A woman with an annoyingly cheerful voice tried to convince him of the necessity of double glazing. "I live in a bedsit." Frank objected. "But you must have windows? At least one window?" Frank swallowed. "Maybe you should trouble my landlord." He put down the receiver and wondered what that penetrating smell was. Then he remembered.

He decided it was time for a change – and not for the first time. If only his head didn't hurt so much. He got up, put on the kettle and used the stove to lit one of his few remaining cigarettes. He opened the window and breathed in the London air. That didn't help. Outside a boy and girl were shouting abuse at each other and the claxons of too many cars hooted angrily. "Shut the fuck up!" he shouted, but his words drowned in the overall noise.

He got dressed, and searched for his wallet. Maybe he'd feel better after a spot of breakfast. There was still some of Daniel's money left, but not as much as he remembered. It would do. He tried to ignore the ringing in his head, and walked down the stairs.

At the café he ate a breakfast of egg, sausage, tomatoes, toast and chips and drank a large milky tea. Greedily he lit a cigarette from the packet he'd just bought from the vending machine. He was the only customer.


End file.
